Wonderland
by Jayfairchild
Summary: A collect of Luna x Rolf oneshots. 4. Home: Because when they kiss, with his arms wrapped around her waist and her fingers in his hair, she knows where she belongs.
1. Lilacs

_Circa 2008_

She is lying under a lilac tree, her hair fanned out around her, a few purple blossoms caught in the tresses. He walks towards her purposefully, hands shoved deep into his pockets, but when she turns and her eyes meet his he forgets even his name as he falls into their silvery depths.

"Rolf," she calls, smiling up at him.

_ (Right, Rolf it is.)_

"Luna," he replies, loving the feel of it rolling off his tongue.

She reaches out her hand, and he weaves his fingers through hers, sighing with contentment.

"How are the Blibbering Humdingers doing today?" he asks, smiling bemusedly at her bare feet and dirty toes.

"Oh quite well, as one would expect with all the rain we've been having." She shrugs and sits up, brushing the grass from her hair. "And how did the conversation with your grandfather go?"

He could sit and listen to her voice forever, high and wavering like wind through tree tops. "He said I would be a most welcome addition to his next expedition. We're going to Greece in search of Hippocampi, and... I asked him... would you...?"

"Greece is a very lovely place, I imagine," she murmurs, cheeks dimpling with her moonlight smile, "I'd love to go with you."

His heart is beating a hundred kilometers an hour in his chest and he thinks his face might split from the force of his happiness. She would go with him; she would _love_ to go with him. Everything is falling into place.

"You know," he says, settling back with his arms bent behind his head, "You and your father never checked down south for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, maybe we'll have a sighting."

She lies down beside him, her face tipped towards the dappled sunlight, "Oh no Rolf, you must know by now that Snorkacks much prefer the cold; you see their coats are quite-"

With a quiet, throaty laugh he relaxes, relishing in her eccentricities and her closeness.


	2. Happy Birthday

_Circa 2007_

They are sitting in her father's house slurping Plimpy Soup (which Rolf secretly thinks tastes horrible, though he loves her enough to ask for the recipe) from hat shaped bowls and playing footsie beneath the table. Tomorrow is his birthday, and Luna's present sits in front of him where it will remain until exactly midnight because she wants him to be surprised (but judging by the way the gift hoovers conspicuously about an inch and a half above the table, he is sure it contains some sort of Dirigible Plum accessory.) Nonetheless he is content, more than content: happy.

He had thought with his family away in Japan researching Kappas that his 31st birthday would be a bit blue, he had even considered taking a break from his consultation at the Ministry of Magic to go see them for a few weeks, but in the end he had decided to stay, much to his present delight. Because sitting across from Luna Lovegood and listening to her theories about why Mistletoe was favored so particularly by Nargles is a hundred times better than crouching in a shallow river on one of the Three Holy Mountains. But the best is yet to come because after two years of close friendship and innocent camaraderie he is finally going to make his move.

"You look a bit out of sorts Rolf," she comments, tilting her head and letting her blonde hair cascade over her shoulders, "Is the soup not agreeing with you?"

In truth the soup is certainly not agreeing with him, but he is sure that the fluttering in his stomach and dampening of his palms have nothing to do with the concoction (although the nausea might.)

He looks up, suddenly determined, calls her, "Hey Luna," and just as she meets his gaze, strikes, leaning across the table and pressing his lips against hers. There is a second of anticipation before she smiles, and pushes her fingers into his curly hair.

They pull back after a moment, eyes glued until she sighs, "Rolf," in her mysterious way, and he knows he'd gladly spend the rest of his like this, with hot soup spilled on his lap and his birthday present freed from its confinements and bumping against the ceiling, if only to hear the sound of her voice, whispering his name.


	3. Friends

_Circa 2004_

"There are a troubling number of Wrackspurts buzzing around your head Rolf. Is everything all right?"

He glances up at her, then quickly away, ears burning.

"They are attracted to complex minds sometimes too you know, more thoughts to muddle. You must be uncommonly intelligent to attract so many."

'_Or uncommonly preoccupied,'_ he thinks, his heart racing and palms sweating. With a defeated sigh Rolf slumps forward, gazing up at her from his seat. "You always do this to me Luna."

Quirking an eyebrow she enquires "What? Make the Wrackspurts swarm? I'm afraid I have no control over their mysterious ways." She gazes upward in inspired rapture, pulling off her spectrespecs and offering them to him. "Look," she commands.

He complies wordlessly, slipping on the glasses and staring at her distorted form. "You look like a rainbow," he states, "but I don't see any tiny magical beasts." She giggles, (which makes him feel better,) and pulls off the glittery lenses, her fingers barely brushing his cheeks, (which makes him feel great,) smiling a secret smile.

"See," she says, "You've taken all of mine. Such clarity of thought! You're my diadem." She pauses for a moment, beaming, before plopping down beside him. "That's what's so nice about you Rolf, you make my brain happy."

He can't help but chuckle at her phrasing, but after a moment his face turns serious. "You make me happy too Luna. When I'm around you I'm so incredibly happy I don't know what to do with myself. Everything you say makes me smile, everything you do makes me laugh." His face has grown quite red and his fingers are fidgeting nervously in his lap. "You're amazing." There is silence as he waits for her reply his heart beating erratically in his chest. When he can take it no longer he peeks at her face and to his great astonishment she is crying.

Meeting his eyes, wide with shock, she forces a watery grin, then suddenly throws her arms around his, burying her damp face in his chest.

"Oh Rolf," she sniffles, "You are such a wonderful, wonderful friend. Let's make each other happy forever."


	4. Home

_Circa 2009_

It is a blisteringly hot day with not a cloud in the sky and only a faint breeze to stir the fields of wild grasses that surround them. The sandy path is warm on the soles of her feet and the sun is almost blinding, but still she is unbearably happy.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Luna sings, twirling around with her hands swaying above her head, her loose dress twisting around her.

"It is." He replies transfixed by the way her hair flows and eyes sparkle. She sees him staring as she comes to a stop and giggles. He gives his best impression of a roughish wink, which makes her snort and wrinkle her nose.

"Oh Rolf," she says, but it sounds nothing like scolding. She takes his hand and they make their way up the path ducking under huge Rose of Sharon shrubs and around overgrown Hydrangeas emerging showered in purple petals and a heavy dusting of pollen. She smiles while brushing him off, looking wistfully over his shoulder. "I just couldn't bear to prune them back, so lovely."

He grins and plucks a wilted bloom from her long blonde hair, "I like it better this way." She beams and he can't help but lean in and brush his lips against hers. She tastes like honey and sunshine.

"This is it," she whispers when they come up for air, breathless and flushed.

"Hmmm," he replies eyes cloudy, grinning like an idiot. She nudges him gently with her elbow and gestures to the peeling red door before them.

"Look, isn't it magnificent?" And he can't help but agreeing. The small brick house, sagging and protruding at the middle like something over-stuffed, is round, cozy, and inviting. It looks like home.

"You made a wonderful choice. This house is perfect, it looks made for you."

"And you…" she asks, smiling coyly the way she has been lately (it must be that darn Weasly girl, rubbing off on her.) "Is it perfect for you Rolf?"

He heart stops for a moment before a smile lights up his face like the sun at dawn. And he kisses her again, running his finger through her hair and across her cheeks (and down to her bum once or twice.) They pull apart glowing, radiating contentment. "Shall I take that as a yes?"

His smile says it all.


End file.
